


The Luck You're Born With

by Lynds



Series: Luck [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, BAMF Charles, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Has Feelings, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is a Sweetheart, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kid Fic, M/M, Poor Charles, Pre-Slash, Protective Erik, Smitten Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21564256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynds/pseuds/Lynds
Summary: Prompt:College AU. Erik thinks Charles Xavier is an arrogant, rich brat, whose only redeeming quality is his intellect. Charles never disputes this image. Then through an accident Erik finds out that Charles has been long cut off from his family and is essentially a single parent to a ten-year-old Raven.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Series: Luck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1554106
Comments: 30
Kudos: 419
Collections: Secret Mutant Madness 2019





	The Luck You're Born With

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kianspo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kianspo/gifts).
  * In response to a prompt by [kianspo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kianspo/pseuds/kianspo) in the [secret_mutant_madness_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/secret_mutant_madness_2019) collection. 



“Emma, darling! How are you?”

Erik rolled his eyes and ducked his face lower over his paper as Charles bloody Xavier’s voice rang out across the study hall. The man was such an arrogant prat, his plummy English accent showing off the silver spoon sticking out of his arse.

Emma Frost leaned down to kiss him on each cheek, because they were pretentious posh idiots, and straightened up, sending a darkly amused look in Erik’s direction. “You have an admirer, sweetheart,” she said to Xavier. Great. Another telepath.

Xavier turned to glance at Erik, and snorted. Bastard. “Yes, and he has such a way with words, doesn’t he?”

Erik held up his middle finger. “If you two insist on talking about who’s bought the latest super-yacht, could you maybe fuck off? Some of us don’t have Mummy and Daddy’s money to fall back on if they fail.”

Frost’s eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared slightly, but Xavier just laughed. “Come on, Emma. Raven’s been asking after you, you know.”

Emma fell into step with Xavier as he turned his chair towards the external doors. “Give her my love, won’t you?” she said, fake as ever. Erik glared after them until the automatic doors slipped shut behind them.

He had not, in any way, been staring at Xavier’s fantastic triceps. But _how_ was his muscle definition visible even through the awful cardigans he insisted on wearing? It just wasn’t right!

Xavier was in Erik’s Mutant Studies class, and Erik wanted to kill him at least 90% of the time. The fact that such a powerful mutant managed to also be a bloody integrationist was almost insulting, but he could be so damn _patronising_ too! He had this smug smile, and seemed to think he was everyone’s father, though Erik knew for a fact that he was almost two years younger than most of the people in the class. Everyone seemed to fawn over him pathetically, and even Azazel had been known to approach him for help with his essays. Nobody bothered to ask the professor for help, when Charles Xavier was around.

Trouble was, Xavier was also so bloody capable and intelligent that Erik was almost tempted to talk to him as well. If only he wasn’t such a naïve, rainbows-and-butterflies, everyone-should-get-along little hippy! They might actually get along.

No. Erik probably couldn’t forgive anyone for being _that_ unbearably posh. Even if he did have the prettiest lips, the biggest blue eyes and shoulders that were literally made to pin him down…

Erik gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on his work, levitating a paperclip into the air and twisting it into torturous knots. If only Xavier wasn’t so damn… noticeable! Erik would get so much more work done.

***

It was icy already, early December with the nights drawing in and the cold biting at Erik’s ears if he forgot his hat. He sighed when he next looked up from his work and saw that the sky was pitch black, and the clock only reading four o’clock. He grimaced at his essay and decided he could try and force himself to work a bit more at home. Maybe curled up on the sofa with Mama’s old knitted blanket thrown over his knees.

Now the thought of warmth and home had entered his mind, he knew the alternative was hopeless. He’d pick up some chicken and vegetables and make some soup, he decided, and that would be his reward for finishing this damn essay.

The ground was already icy, and the air itself felt like little needles spearing every inch of exposed skin. Erik crinkled his nose up, tucked his hands in his pockets and his nose deep into his scarf, and walked briskly towards his apartment.

He was a block away from the college when he saw Xavier ahead of him. He was travelling fast, and kept checking his watch (a disgustingly expensive Pierre Cardin, Erik could feel the quality of the mechanism any time he got close enough) and swearing under his breath. Erik wondered where his chauffeur was. Surely old money like that wasn’t used to making his own way around the city.

And then the wheelchair hit a patch of ice. Erik heard the yelp, saw the chair tip over, saw Xavier struggle to throw his weight over to correct the tilt, and saw him hit the ground with a thump and a grunt. Before he realised he was doing it, Erik had started running.

Xavier pushed himself up and tugged his legs into a loose cross, swearing violently enough that Erik found himself smirking. “Well, you’re obviously not that badly hurt if you can come up with that kind of language,” he said. He was surprised to find himself quite so relieved.

Xavier glared up at him and pursed his lips. “Thank you so much for your concern,” he snarked.

Erik shrugged. “Uh… anything I can do to help?”

Xavier paused and looked over at the chair, lying on its side with the wheel still spinning. He sighed. “If you could just position that behind me and lock the brakes on…” He glared up at Erik again. “I can get it there myself, I’m just in a bit of a hurry.”

Erik rolled his eyes and used his mutation to position the chair behind Xavier, who reached up behind him and lifted himself onto the footrests and straightened his feet out ahead of him. Erik held it steady as Xavier put both arms behind him, resting them on the seat, took a breath and lifted himself up almost into a full dip.

Erik was not drooling. He absolutely was not.

Just as Xavier was nearly level with the seat, his face suddenly paled, and one arm gave out. He landed back down on the footrests and clutched at his left wrist, biting his lip and crouching over silently. Erik crouched down immediately. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” Xavier snapped, and that would have been much more believable if his voice hadn’t been tight with pain. “Just a sprain.”

“Yeah, sure. You should get that checked.”

“I’m fine, I just…” He took a deep breath and put his hands behind him again. Erik winced in sympathy as Xavier lifted himself again, pain creasing his face. Erik bit his lip to stop himself from offering help, holding the chair as still as he could while Xavier’s arms straightened, lifting himself right up, swinging himself onto the seat, and actually letting out a sharp cry as he made the last few inches. He slumped over his wrist, breathing hard.

“Yeah,” said Erik. “You’re fine.”

Xavier breathed out a long, trembling breath through pursed lips, then sat up with a fake smile. “Thank you for your help. If you’ll excuse me, I really am late.”

He pushed the wheels once, twice, sliding past Erik, who watched him with one raised eyebrow. He managed a third push, then bent over his left arm again, his back hunched so pathetically it made even Erik’s cold heart ache. Surely he’d stop and call his chauffeur now? Or at least a taxi! But instead, he just sat up straight, and began to push himself again.

Erik rolled his eyes. “You’re going to mess your arm up even more, doing that,” he said, walking faster to catch up with Xavier.

“It’ll be fine,” he said, gritting his teeth almost loud enough for Erik to hear.

Erik hesitated. “Look, can’t you call someone? Get a lift wherever you need to go?”

“No,” he said. “I can’t.”

“Not even a taxi?”

“Look, Erik,” he said, coming to a stop and glaring up at Erik. He was sure Xavier had tears at the corners of his eyes, and he frowned. Xavier glanced away, the flush on his cheeks deepening. “I don’t have time for this,” he muttered under his breath, then smiled back at Erik, that polite, charming smile that Erik hated so much. “I really appreciate all your help. And your concern, really. But I’m fine! And I really need to get to the school before quarter to five, so if you don’t mind…”

“I’ll push you,” Erik said, then covered his eyes with both hands as Xavier gave him a blank look. “I mean, only if you want! I can’t just… you’ll mess your hand up! You should actually be going to the hospital—”

“No!” Xavier said, and Erik looked up in surprise. Xavier’s eyes were wide and almost pleading. “No, I’m not…” He sighed and slumped. “I can’t go to the doctor. No doctors. Please.”

“Oh… kay,” said Erik slowly. “But at least think about that arm. You’re going to have to use it tomorrow, and the next day, and if you damage it today, that’s going to be difficult, isn’t it?”

Xavier glanced at his watch again, and in the process twisted that same wrist. He clutched at it involuntarily, his face crumpling in pain. Erik winced in sympathy again. Xavier looked down at it, torn, and Erik sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets. He wouldn’t ask again, no matter what he thought Xavier should do. It was his choice and Erik damn well wasn’t going to be one of _those_ people who decided the disabled man needed help he didn’t ask for.

Xavier sighed and looked up at the sky, then at Erik. “That’s good to hear, at least,” he said wryly.

“You really need to stop listening in to my thoughts,” Erik said.

“Perhaps you need to stop thinking so loudly about me?” Xavier suggested. “And it’s Charles, please, not Xavier. If you’re going to be pushing me along like an invalid I’d prefer to be on first name terms.”

“If you prefer, I can walk beside you and use my power,” Erik shrugged.

Charles blinked. “Actually… umm, yes. If you wouldn’t mind.” He gave a little flicker of a smile. “More sociable.”

Erik nodded and held out a hand, taking hold of the wheelchair and tugging it forward smoothly as he began to walk. “You’ll have to direct me,” he said. “I don’t know what school you’re talking about.”

“Oh… it’s the middle school just two streets over. I don’t suppose… could we possibly go a bit faster?” he asked, biting his lip. “Only… if I don’t pick Raven up before quarter to, I’ll have to pay for an extra hour of after school care.”

Erik snorted. “As if you can’t afford that,” he grinned.

Charles didn’t answer, setting his jaw. Erik just shrugged and walked faster, turning into the school grounds with two minutes to spare. Charles let out a long, relieved breath. “It’s up there – the side entrance. Thank you so much.”

He pressed the buzzer and a young woman opened the door, sending a fake smile down at him. “Mr Xavier. Just in time,” she said. “Raven’s been waiting for you.”

“Thank you Mrs Henderson,” he said, blinking big blue eyes up at her. She seemed un-moved, and stepped out of the way.

Erik didn’t know what he’d expected, honestly. After all, they were going to a school, Charles had talked about after school care – but when a little blonde child raced out and threw herself at Charles, crawling onto his lap and kissing him, Erik found himself staring, open mouthed. “Charles! Charles, we’ve started learning about the Greeks today, and did you know that Athena was born from her dad’s _head??_ How weird is that? Do you think the Greeks were mutants too? Oh, and Irene says she wants me to come to her sleepover, can I go, pleasepleaseplease?”

Charles, who had sucked in a sharp breath as Raven flung herself at him, had both arms wrapped around her and was kissing her on the head. “Hello darling,” he said, and Erik could almost feel the _love_ pouring off him. “Zeus and Athena were gods, not mutants, and what day is the sleepover?”

But Raven had spotted Erik and cocked her head like a little bird. “Hi,” she said.

“Raven, this is Erik – he helped me when I fell over earlier.”

Mrs Henderson cleared her throat pointedly. “I really must ask you to clear the area, please, Mr Xavier. We’re hoping to lock up.”

“Oh, of course,” he said, and Erik was angry that Charles flushed in embarrassment. Hadn’t the woman heard that Charles had fallen over? Didn’t she have any compassion? Charles flashed an amused smile up at Erik, and pushed himself backwards.

Erik rolled his eyes and took control of the chair again. “Rest your arm, would you?”

“What happened to your arm?” Raven said, frowning and twisting around to look at his wrist, which, when Erik glanced down, was looking painfully swollen already.

“Nothing, love,” said Charles. “Just a sprain.”

“I really don’t think it is,” said Erik. “You should really--”

“No.”

Erik shrugged. “OK, OK, it’s your long-term health and bone integrity. At least let me take you home.”

“Oh… it’s really no trouble, Erik, you’ve done so much already and gone so out of your way. I’m sure Raven can push me the rest of the way.”

“Yeah, I can,” Raven said, nodding. “I’m really strong!”

“I’m sure you are,” Erik said, smiling at the little girl. “But it’s icy, and I can imagine you telling Raven to get back on your lap and pushing the both of you up some hill or other, and actually breaking your wrist in the process.”

Charles burst out laughing. “You’re quite a pessimist, aren’t you?”

“Obviously,” said Erik. “Have you looked around at the world recently? As much as you can from your ivory tower.”

Charles rolled his eyes and shook his head, talking to Raven instead. “He’s a grumpy guts, isn’t he?”

Raven giggled. Charles wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her again, and Erik’s heart melted just a little bit. OK, maybe a big bit. She was a very angelic looking child. But who the hell _was_ she? Charles couldn’t possibly be a father – he was only eight years older than her at the very most.

“Raven’s my sister,” Charles said, looking up at Erik, and then smiling back at Raven. “The best sister in the world.”

“You’re the best brother in the world!”

Erik rolled his eyes to hide the puddle that was now his heart. “Stop, you two are sickening.”

Charles just blew a raspberry in Raven’s neck and she squealed. “Oh, our flat is that way,” Charles said, pointing down a street. Erik frowned. It was a surprisingly rough area.

He kept silent and followed Charles’ instructions, stopping outside a sixties concrete tower block, the paving stone path cracked and overgrown with weeds. Broken bottles littered the lawn, and Charles glanced up at Erik awkwardly as they navigated the sagging ramp to the front door.

Raven hopped off his lap and unlocked the door, holding it open for Charles and Erik, then running forward to open the door of the first apartment in the narrow corridor. Erik had no idea how Charles managed to turn those corners to get his chair into the apartment by himself.

Inside, the room was a strange mixture of obviously expensive and battered thrift store. The couch was a ratty, worn thing, sagging in the middle. There was an old steamer trunk being used as a coffee table, and a rocking chair draped with soft blankets. But there was also a bookshelf straining under the weight of beautiful leather-bound books, a space-age looking coffee maker and a large oil painting in a gilt frame.

Charles followed his gaze and chuckled. “That’s Emma’s doing,” he said. “When my family threw us out, she insisted I take something ridiculously expensive. I told her the books ticked that box, but she insisted it be something pointless.” He kissed Raven’s cheek as she swung on the arm of his chair. “Sweetheart, would you fetch the ice pack for me please?”

She nodded and ran off to the kitchenette. Charles flashed an embarrassed smile up at Erik. “Would you like a drink? If you want coffee, you’ll have to make it yourself – I’m sure that machine will go into orbit one day if I so much as touch it. Tony brought it over for a housewarming present.”

“Doesn’t sound like a very thoughtful present,” Erik frowned.

Charles laughed and transferred himself to the sofa, leaning on his left elbow instead of his hand, grimacing even so. “It was a joke,” he said. “He was annoyed that I refused to live with him instead of attempting independence – shock-horror.”

Raven came back and curled up next to Charles, making a sympathetic face at his arm. “That looks sore.”

Charles smiled at her and wrapped the ice pack around his swollen wrist. “It’s fine,” he said. “Just needs a rest.”

Erik cleared his throat pointedly. “Oh, now he agrees with me!”

Charles made a face at him. “If I hadn’t agreed with you then I wouldn’t have let you push me.”

Erik shrugged, accepting the point. “Well, if that arm of yours needs a rest, I’d better start cooking dinner for you, hadn’t I, Raven?”

Charles looked up, his eyes wide with shock. “Oh, no, you really don’t have to do that! You’ve already helped way more than you had to, I’m sorry for keeping you so long!”

“If I didn’t want to help, I wouldn’t have offered,” Erik said, wandering towards the kitchenette. “Anyway, I’m hungry, so if you don’t mind…?”

Charles shook his head with a smile. “Well… if you put it that way.” His smile faded and his eyes seemed to grow larger, younger. “Are you sure it’s not too much trouble?”

Erik turned away before he forgot everything that annoyed him about Charles Xavier. “I could do with someone to tell me where to find things,” he said, raising his eyebrows at Raven.

She grinned and jumped up to help him navigate the cupboards and fridge. “I can help! I made cupcakes almost completely by myself this weekend, Charles only cracked the eggs for me and turned on the oven. They were really tasty, weren’t they, Charles? One day I’m going to go on Bake-Off and I’ll make cupcakes with passion fruit and mango icing – they’re Charles’ favourite. I really think I can win it.”

Erik smiled at her, blinking at the stream of chatter. “That does sound delicious,” he said. “What shall we make for dinner today?”

She turned and skipped over to a bookshelf, reaching up, then froze and glanced back at Erik. Erik frowned and tilted his head.

“You can change, darling,” said Charles softly. “Erik’s one of us. He’s a mutant too.”

Raven flickered blue, then grew. Erik stared as he was faced with a smiling clone of himself, glancing up at him shyly. He’d surely never looked that innocent! “That’s amazing,” he said at last.

Raven grinned at him. Holy shit, did he really have that many teeth in his smile? Charles sniggered from the couch and Erik shot him a glare. “I’m a shapeshifter,” Raven said, in a perfect mimic of Erik’s voice. “It’s really useful when I want to get things off high shelves.” She turned back to the bookshelf and pulled a stained notebook off, flicking through the pages as she shrank back down, through blue to blonde again. “We keep a list of all the meals we’re going to make so we remember what food we need to buy,” she explained, running back over to him and holding the list up. “Chicken and bacon pasta,” she said triumphantly.

“Oh, no, we can’t do that tonight, Raven,” said Charles, frowning. “Erik’s Jewish, he can’t have bacon.”

“Really? We’ve been learning about Judaism in school! My teacher says it’s Hannukah next week, and you light candles and sing, it sounds really pretty! Why can’t you eat bacon though? Are you allergic?”

“Raven,” Charles said, his cheeks pinking.

“It’s OK,” Erik smiled, shaking his head. “I’m not very strict about keeping kosher, but if you don’t mind, I’d rather not cook bacon. Pigs are said to be unclean in the Torah – that’s our religious text.”

“Oh,” she said, and nodded wisely. “Tomorrow we’re supposed to have leek and potato pie. Are those allowed today?”

“Those are very allowed,” he said solemnly. He glanced up at Charles, amused, and saw him looking at the two of them with a soft expression on his face, which he quickly hid, ducking his head to fuss over his wrist. Erik looked back at the recipe in front of him, wondering why his face was heating up.

Raven rushed over to Charles and whispered something in his ear. He nodded, and she turned around with a little excited hop. “Would you like to see what I look like when I’m blue?” she asked, her eyes sparkling and hopeful.

“Of course,” Erik said immediately. She grinned, a dimple deepening in her cheek, and her skin fluttered again, the blue settling over her like scales or feathers. Her eyes were a bright amber, her hair red and slicked back tight to her skull.

“Raven,” Charles squeaked. “Clothes!”

“Oh yeah!” she said and parts of her skin flickered again, a pair of blue jeans and a Hello Kitty shirt appearing. “Sorry,” she giggled.

Charles covered his face and sighed. “One day you’ll remember,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, Erik, she’s not very self-conscious.”

“She shouldn’t have to be,” said Erik. “She’s too little to have to worry about things like that. You really have an amazing mutation, Raven, you should be very proud.”

“I am!” she said. “Charles says I’m the most talented shape-shifter he’s ever heard of.”

“But we don’t rely on natural talent, do we?” Charles said, and Erik rolled his eyes as he recognised lecture-mode. “We’re grateful for our talents, but we have to work hard too.”

Raven nodded, just that little bit too young to be irritated at his nagging. Erik smirked, wondering how Charles would cope with it when she became a teenager. Charles just narrowed his eyes at Erik.

***

They ate their pie sitting on the sofa and the rocking chair, Charles’ arm now strapped up and resting on his lap, warm under his plate. Raven chattered about school and friends, her Uncle Tony helping her to build a robot for her science fair, and her Auntie Emma taking her to an Alexander McQueen fashion show so she could get ideas for what to shift into. Erik found himself staying long after dinner was over, sitting back on the chair and rocking slightly as Charles read His Dark Materials to Raven in her fluffy pyjamas. She yawned widely and snuggled into Charles shoulder as he hugged her tight. “Go on to sleep now, darling. I love you.”

“Love you too,” she said, pressing a painfully hard-looking kiss onto his cheek. Charles just smiled up at her and patted her cheek.

“Sleep well.”

She stood and, to Erik’s surprise, fell into a cuddle with him as well. He froze, then wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back. “Good night, Raven. Sweet dreams,” he said.

“Love you, Erik,” she said sleepily and sloped off to the little bedroom. Erik watched her go. His heart felt worryingly full.

Charles looked up at him, a complicated expression on his face. Pride and fear and an aching love. “She’s wonderful, Charles,” Erik said.

“I know,” Charles said. “I’m unbelievably lucky to have her.”

“I think she might be just as lucky to have you,” Erik said, raising his eyebrows at Charles, who chuckled and shook his head. Erik leaned forwards. “Look, Charles… I’m sorry—”

“Oh, God, you’re not going to apologise for assuming I’m posh, are you? You really are such a Gryffindor,” Charles laughed.

Erik frowned at him. “Of course I’m going to apologise, I made insensitive comments…”

“Erik, I _am_ posh. I grew up with ridiculous amounts of money, it was truly disgusting.”

“And you lost it all. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” said Charles, and there was something dark in Charles that Erik had never quite seen before. He tilted his head, surprised that he _wasn’t_ surprised by it. It… fit him. Charles quirked a smile with no humour at all, steel behind his eyes. “What I lost when I lost my family, my upbringing, was nothing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fighting them through the courts for compensation at the very least – there’s no way I’ll let Raven go without if I can help it. But no. I don’t regret leaving even a tiny bit.”

Erik frowned, still stuck on _compensation_. What exactly had his family done to him? Was he in danger? Was Raven?

Charles quirked a smile and sat back, suddenly tired. “Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For not asking. For thinking about our safety first – Raven’s in particular.” He shrugged. “Anyone who considers Raven’s safety important has my eternal loyalty.”

Erik looked at him, looked past the pompous accent, the paternalistic lecturing, the arrogant intelligence. They were all still there, and still annoying. He looked past the frumpy cardigans, the blue eyes and the mouth-watering muscle definition of his shoulders. They were still there, still beautiful.

And behind them was a young man, barely out of childhood, and giving everything, possibly more than was healthy, for the good of his little sister. There was a man who had the kind of stubbornness Erik was always accused of, the kind of open affection he was never accused of, the gentleness, the iron in his soul, and all the contradiction and stupidity and wisdom of an entire person. Someone Erik hoped to know.

Charles smiled at Erik, his cheeks flushed under his freckles. Erik smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt immediately jumped out at me and I couldn't wait to write it! There's also going to be a prequel of how Raven and Charles left Westchester because when my friend and I started discussing their backstory, I realised I couldn't express it properly within the scope of this story without making it another massive fic, and I've got too many of those on the go lol! 
> 
> It should be made clear that Charles knows how lucky he is. He's aware that he's VERY privileged to have so many friends who can support him financially (though he's not letting them take too much on). Without someone paying for his medical bills and wheelchairs and physio, this would have been a very different story, and Charles knows that.
> 
> I did research how a paraplegic person would get themselves back into their wheelchair after a fall (WheelchairDNA on YouTube was a really helpful channel), and so I know there are a number of ways different people will do so, this one just seemed most likely given Charles' specific situation and the environment he's in. Of course, if anyone feels I've misrepresented Charles' disability in any way, please let me know and I'll do my best to improve it!
> 
> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
